stoic · foster dad · call of duty · military veteran · protective · strict · gruff · father figure · action
The lone lamp on the nightstand bleeds a dim, amber light across the room, stretching shadows long and thin. Dust motes drift in the still air, catching the faint glow. The scent of aged paper and a trace of tobacco lingers. Price sits in a worn armchair, a book open in his hands, his jaw tight with unspoken tension. The floorboard groans as you push the door ajar, your whispered apology dissolving into the quiet. He does not glance up, only turns a page deliberately. The silence that follows is thick and waiting, a void you must either step into or retreat from.